http://www.saultstar.com/ArticleDisplay.aspx?e=2281031
So Tiger Woods is in sex addiction therapy. isn't everybody?
Nookie is a trendier substance of abuse than nicotine, alcohol, caffeine, crack cocaine or chocolate cake.
How's this for the cast of a sex tape? Michael douglas, charlie sheen, rob lowe, david duchovny, lindsay lohan, Billy Bob Thornton, amy Winehouse,
Eric Benet. "sex addicts" all.
Once upon a time, they were just randy. now they are addicts. stricken. diseased. Victims. This is useful when confronted by a raging spouse. you can even fool around some more -- and it's just a "relapse."
Newspapers are now running sympathetic stories about poor Tiger and his affliction.
Hollywood sets the scene, but any average joe, or josephine, caught with a hand in the cookie jar can cry for help.
Here are a few of the group options: sexaholics anonymous (sa), sex addicts anonymous (saa), sex and love addicts anonymous (slaa), sexual compulsives anonymous (sca), sexual recovery anonymous (sra), recovering couples anonymous (rca), co-dependents of sex addicts (cosa), and horny uncomplicated guys (hug).
I kid you not, except for that last one.
The meetings are mostly modelled on alcoholics anonymous and the 12 steps. I'd love to be a gnat on the wall at Tiger's first one ...
The session room is stark and white. Pure. The Mississippi sun floods in, all hot and bothered. Two dozen men and women sit or move about, sipping coffee, avoiding eyes, cleavage, zippers
The convener rises at front. The chatter peters out.
"I'm Ed, and i'm a sexaholic," the convener says. "Welcome to you all, and especially to the newcomer in our group. This is a great honour, Tiger. Would you like to say something?"
The group stirs. From various directions: "get in the hole!!"
The convener, raising both arms: "Pipe down. Mr. Woods, you're away."
Tiger turns to the familiar man at his shoulder.
Everyone tenses, sensing destiny. like that miracle chip shot on 16 at the 2005 Masters.
They know this is the first time in history a sex addict has brought his caddie to class.
"What's the lie, Stevie?" Woods says.
Steve Williams studies his notebook and whispers, "Maybe the one about how ambien made you do it."
"Uh-uh," says Tiger. he glances at a potted plant. It quivers in a draft. "let's make it Vicoden."
And he takes his stance. Shoulders square. Jaw set. Facing the group. Sunlight dapples his new front teeth.
"I'm Tiger," he says, "and i'm a sexaholic."
A rumble ripples through the room. From the back: "Bite, bite!"
Stevie: "shaddup, Phil. Get your own addiction, you chokeaholic!"
Convener: "remember, people. Who you see and what you hear stays here. And no interruptions. Please continue, Tiger."
Woods: "I admit I am powerless over sex. I'm a sexaholic, all right. I have been sober for ..." he whispers to Stevie. "What time is it ...?"
"...an hour and a half. since the waitress at lunch."
"And I am now a humble man. I have learned I should never have sex and drive. I had no idea a little tail could be so damn expensive. Holy cow. Barkley and Jordan should have warned me. Hey, listen, OK if they're my sponsors? They can really party and it'll be a good test and ..."
Stevie, under his breath. "Take it down a club, Tiger, you're too pumped."
Tiger: "I'm a sick man."
The convener beams. "Bravo, Tiger. you must feel so much better. And tell us, what has brought you to this moment of truth?"
Tiger: "Well, my lawyer said ..."
Stevie, hurriedly: "hang on, hang on. i think the wind is shifting."
Tiger, pounding his fist: "oh, for crissakes, it's about time. Why can't people just leave me be. I can't help it. All these blonds throwing themselves at me. What am i supposed to do? Lay up? It's a disease, dammit. A disease."
Convener: "That reminds me, I've got this terrible duck hook. A real quacker. Can't get rid of it. It's worse than the Swine Flu."
Tiger: "Have you tried massage therapy? I know this amazing little bartender in Vegas ..."
From the back of the room: "you da man!"